Hitting the Couch
by Nina La Vough
Summary: This time, Nina is Nynaeve1723 and bourbon. Post Season 5. Woody must seek some muchneeded counseling, and NOT from Lu!, in order to regain his badge. WJish.
1. Session 1

**A/N: On this outing, Nina is Nynaeve1723 and bourbon. "Hitting the Couch" came out of mutual frustration with much of what went on in Season 5, particularly post "Elephant in the Room" and Woody's evolution since his shooting. This story is our attempt to make sense of some of the more bizarre character and plot developments.**

**DISCLAIMER: Not ours. Willing to stage a coup though. (And if we _did_ own them, you can bet Season 5 would have been much, much different.)**

**HITTING THE COUCH**

_It's funny – you can spend a lifetime knowing someone and find out you didn't really. Or you knew but you never really saw how it all fit together. You wonder, if you'd known, would it have changed anything? You can't help but think of it. You wonder why someone else – someone with nothing invested - could fit all the pieces into the puzzle and then you realize that sometimes that's exactly what it takes. It was never up to you to put him together. It was up to you to love him and let him love you._

_Still…_

_Reading his personnel files – all these years later – brings back so much from that time. You wonder if he ever saw these transcripts, but then you remember: he was there._

_XXXXXXXX_

SUBJECT: Woodrow Wilson Hoyt  
EMPLOYER: Boston Police Department  
PERSON REFERRING: Howard Stiles, PsyD  
EXAMINED BY: Jake Carter, PsyD  
REASON FOR REFERRAL: reckless behavior, irrationality, aggression

DR. CARTER: Tell me about Dr. Cavanaugh.

HOYT: She's - She's good. Great. Terrific M.E. We're... friends.

DR. CARTER: Just friends?

HOYT: Yeah. Why?

DR. CARTER: Well, you know, it seems like there might be more there. You did risk your career for her.

HOYT: Oh, yeah. Um - yeah.

DR. CARTER: I understand that has a lot to do with why you're here.

HOYT: How's that?

DR. CARTER: Wasn't it during the whole... situation with Dr. Cavanaugh that your involvement with Detective Simmons came out?

HOYT: Yeah. Yes. That's - It's true.

DR. CARTER: So it just seems to me like you went through an awful lot for someone who's just a friend.

HOYT: She's - She's more than a friend. She's... complicated. We're complicated.

DR. CARTER: So there's a "we" with you and Dr. Cavanaugh.

HOYT: Um, well, no. Not really. There was. Sort of. It didn't work out.

DR. CARTER: Did that have something to do with … let's see... J.D. Pollack?

HOYT: No! I mean, well, yeah, she was seeing him for a while before she and I – before all that.

DR. CARTER: While you were seeing Detective Simmons?

HOYT: Uh. No.

DR. CARTER: Okay.

HOYT: Does this matter?

DR. CARTER: Doesn't it?

HOYT: God, I hate shrinks. Never answer a simple question.

DR. CARTER: Go ahead. Ask me a simple question, Detective Hoyt. I just don't get the impression, from reading your history, that anything relating to Dr. Cavanaugh is a simple matter for you.

HOYT: Fine. But how's any of this gonna clear me for – for active duty? I'm here because of – the thing with Lu – Detective Simmons, right? And my "anger" problem.

DR. CARTER: That's true, but I get the feeling a lot of your behavior has to do with your… complications with Dr. Cavanaugh.

HOYT: You got this from reading my personal history?

DR. CARTER: And from the fact you won't answer my questions about her.

HOYT: Don't you want to know about my childhood? When I was toilet trained? All that?

DR. CARTER: Uh… yeah. Well, maybe not that toilet training thing. We'll get there. First I want to know about Dr. Cavanaugh.

HOYT: Why is she so important?

DR. CARTER: That's what I want to figure out. Look, Detective Hoyt, you can keep avoiding my questions if you want to. Or you can answer them and we can move on. If we do this your way, it's going to be a long time until you get back to active duty. If we do it my way… well, we'll see.

HOYT: Fine, so I 'fess up about how I've had the hots for Jordan Cavanaugh for years, thought she was "the one," all that stuff and I can back to something other than riding a desk?

DR. CARTER: It would be a start.

(NOTE: At this point the subject got up and paced the office for several minutes).

DR. CARTER: Look, Detective, I'm not going to clear you because I have sympathy for what you've been through. I'm not going to clear you because you talk to some troubled kid and I think that somehow means you're magically all better. I'm not going to clear you because I like you.

HOYT: What the hell is that supposed to mean?

DR. CARTER: Looking over your file, you never should have been cleared last fall. Given what later transpired between you and Detective Simmons, I'm not surprised that you were, but I want you to know – right now – that whatever act you put up for her benefit – and possibly your own – isn't going to work in this office.

HOYT: You know, Dr. Carter, I'm really not that complicated. You're making a lot out of something that – that – that….

DR. CARTER: You know, Detective, in my experience, when something isn't complicated, it's pretty easy to put into words.

(NOTE: Subject once again got up from his chair and paced the room. He studied my diploma, the family photo I keep on the wall – during which study he seemed to grow even more tense – and, at one point, walked to the door. My expectation was that he would actually leave my office, but the patient surprised me by returning to his chair. He slumped into the seat and I noticed lines I would attribute to exhaustion around his mouth and eyes. When he next spoke, his voice had lost its earlier confrontational tone).

HOYT: All right. You want to know about me and Jordan. Where should I begin?

DR. CARTER: At the risk of making you hate "shrinks" even more, how about the beginning?

(DOCTOR'S SUMMARY: Detective Hoyt gave me a summary of his professional history with Dr. Jordan Cavanaugh. Given the nature and frequency of their interactions, the patient also revealed some personal details, though his body language indicated great hesitancy in so doing. My assessment was also that he was holding back far more than he expressed).

DR. CARTER: Well… that's… colorful, to say the least.

HOYT: Great. Can we move on?

DR. CARTER: Tell me something about Dr. Cavanaugh.

HOYT: I just told you everything!

DR. CARTER: No, Detective, you told me how you met her, how you worked together and some of the more significant moments of this complicated involvement you have with her. Now tell me something I couldn't find out from reading either of your personal histories – or reading between the lines of those histories.

HOYT: What? You want to know if we slept together?

DR. CARTER: Did you?

(NOTE: The patient remained silent for a rather long period of time).

HOYT: Yeah. Once. It didn't – We didn't – click. I guess.

DR. CARTER: You-

HOYT: I mean she was still seeing Pollack and – I don't know – it bugged me.

DR. CARTER: That she was… seeing both of you?

HOYT: That she didn't break up with him right away. After everything the two of us had been through, I thought…. I thought I meant more to her.

DR. CARTER: More than he did?

HOYT: Hell, yeah! The guy was – I mean, I never could figure out what Jordan ever saw in him! And I'd – I'd always been there for her and then, suddenly… she's with him!

DR. CARTER: Suddenly?

HOYT: Okay, maybe not suddenly.

DR. CARTER: I thought you told me there was a time period – after the shooting – when you and Dr. Cavanaugh had no contact.

HOYT: I guess.

DR. CARTER: And that there was some friction between you after the Riggs incident. You felt she'd betrayed you?

HOYT: Yeah. Yeah. But… she should have known.

DR. CARTER: Known what?

HOYT: That I didn't mean any of it, that I just needed time.

DR. CARTER: So you were angry with Dr. Cavanaugh when she took your words at face value?

HOYT: (mumbled)

DR. CARTER: I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that.

HOYT: It wasn't like that exactly.

DR. CARTER: What was it like – exactly?

HOYT: I was angry with her for what she said at the hospital!

DR. CARTER: What did she say at the hospital?

HOYT: She told me she needed me, she loved me.

DR. CARTER: And this made you angry because she wouldn't say it before?

HOYT: (nodded) I just needed time to – to get everything back together and she – there was Pollack. And he was such a jerk!

DR. CARTER: But she had feelings for him.

HOYT: Yeah.

DR. CARTER: So then when she didn't break up with him right away, you were hurt that he was obviously important to her – maybe as important as you?

(NOTE: The patient sat without moving for several minutes. He stared at the ceiling, his jaw so tightly clenched I observed the muscles in his jaw fluttering.)

HOYT: Yeah.

DR. CARTER: Detective, you care greatly about Dr. Cavanaugh and, given your history together, your feelings are completely understandable. But have you ever asked yourself why you couldn't be glad for her that she had someone in her life who cared about her? That perhaps she was searching for a way to minimize the pain she might cause this J.D. Pollack? Did his being in her life diminish your place in it?

HOYT: It wasn't the same.

DR. CARTER: No, but the friendship had renewed itself, right? And you were able to work effectively together. From where I sit, it seems that those elements were always an essential part of your relationship with Dr. Cavanaugh. They had been enough before her involvement with Pollack.

HOYT: I wouldn't say they were enough really. I wanted more.

DR. CARTER: And so did she, it would seem.

HOYT: The hospital? She said that out of pity.

DR. CARTER: Detective, I know Dr. Cavanaugh only through what you've told me and the few times I've seen her interviewed by the press, and I don't believe that. Did you really believe it?

HOYT: (long pause) No.

DR. CARTER: So answer my question – did Pollack's being in Dr. Cavanaugh's life diminish your place in it?

HOYT: Yeah. It did. She used to – She'd see – She didn't see me the same way any more.

DR. CARTER: What way is that?

HOYT: When we first met, she used to call me "Farm Boy." I – I know that doesn't sound – It sounds… almost mean, but it wasn't. Not from Jordan – Dr. Cavanaugh. It was more like she saw something in me that – that – not amused her – that she – admired.

DR. CARTER: What else?

HOYT: What do you mean?

DR. CARTER: There's more. More than something she admired.

(NOTE: At this point the patient leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. When he answered my question, it was from this position).

HOYT: Something she wanted. But was – was too afraid to let herself have.

DR. CARTER: And now she doesn't call you this?

HOYT: (shook head, no verbal response. Head remained bowed, body bent forward).

DR. CARTER: And you blame Pollack?

(NOTE: Patient looked up at this time. Lines noted before seemed even deeper than previously).

HOYT: No. No. I want to. But no. And before you ask, I don't blame Jordan either.

DR. CARTER: Good.

HOYT: Good?

DR. CARTER: Yeah. Good.

HOYT: So I'm cured?

DR. CARTER: Maybe next time, Detective Hoyt. Maybe next time.

(NOTES: At this point the patient's session ended and he left. I listened to the transcription of our session and found much of my initial assessment to be accurate, at least on the surface. That Woodrow Hoyt suffers from post traumatic stress seems clear to me. That there is far more to his current behavior than "simple" PTSD is also, I believe, indicated. I believe an examination of his past will reveal a lot about the patient and help us to work though what now troubles him).

Signed: Dr. Jake Carter, PsyD


	2. Session 2

SUBJECT: HOYT, WOODROW W.  
MEMO TO FILE  
RE: SESSION #2

The subject appeared today for his second session of counseling. His outward demeanor was pleasant. Gesturing to the picture on the wall, he casually inquired about my family and how we had spent the holiday weekend. He reported that he had been feeling "terrific" and "A-OK" during the past week since our last session.

Even when the subject turned to his episodes of aggression at work during the past few months, his attitude remained cheerful. He admitted he'd been "a bit of a hothead" on occasion, which he attributed to his frustrations over his continuing physical recovery from the shooting last spring. He maintained that he was "working it out" for himself with good diet and physical therapy, and he assured me that the negative behavior was a thing of the past.

I observed during this line of questioning that while his attitude remained superficially upbeat, he began to grow more restless. He repeatedly drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair, and he shifted constantly in his seat.

When I brought up the subject of Dr. Cavanaugh, his demeanor shifted sharply.

DR.CARTER: Have you seen Dr. Cavanaugh since last week?

(NOTE: Patient immediately grew rigid in his chair. His voice, which had been cheerful and animated, took on a hostile tone).

HOYT: Why do you need to know about Jordan again? I thought we went over this. We went over this.

DR. CARTER: She seems to be an important part of your life. I just wondered if you'd seen her lately.

HOYT: Why do I have to talk about this? Look, I'm doing my part. I agreed to come here…

DR. CARTER: You didn't have a choice.

HOYT: The department wants to slap me on the wrist and see if I'm nutso, fine. I'm trying to play ball. But I'm telling you, Jordan has nothing to do with this, all right? Just take my word for it.

DR. CARTER: That's why they gave me the sheepskin up there, detective. For _not _ just taking my patients' word for it. It's up to you. As I said last time, I'm not going to clear you for duty because you're a nice kid and you're playing ball.

HOYT: You really want to know if I've seen Jordan. You really think it might be important.

DR. CARTER: Take _my_ word for it.

HOYT: No.

DR. CARTER: No, what? No you haven't seen her or no you won't take my word for it?

HOYT: No, I haven't seen her, all right? So what? We're busy. She's got her life. I've got mine. It's no big thing.

DR. CARTER: Methinks the detective doth protest too much.

HOYT: What's that supposed to mean?

DR. CARTER: You put your badge on the line for her, Det. Hoyt. You tampered with evidence to help clear her of murder. You tried to find her when she was on the run. Not to bring her to justice, I gather, but to help her secretly investigate the crime of which she'd been accused. I would think someone you would risk your career for might be someone you'd see or at least speak to on a regular basis.

HOYT: Well, we don't. All right? She put it all together herself. She found the real killer without my help. She came back to Boston. She moved on with her life. We see each other around. We say hi. Everybody's happy. End of story.

DR. CARTER: Really? End of story? I thought you two were more…_complicated_ than that.

(NOTE: Patient drops his head at this point and stares down at his hands for a lengthy silence. When he speaks again, his voice is barely audible.)

HOYT: Yeah, well. Sometimes I wonder if there will ever be an end of the story.

DR. CARTER: Why do you say that?

HOYT: I don't know. It's like we're doing this dance. We get closer and closer, and then the music stops, and it seems like we're back where we started. Like this never-ending cycle.

DR. CARTER: Where do you think the cycle really began? When did your interest in Dr. Cavanaugh start?

HOYT: Well, from the get-go. Come on, doc. You've seen her…

DR. CARTER: No, I don't mean that. Admittedly, Dr. Cavanaugh is a very attractive woman, but if, you're "doing this dance," when did the dance start? At what point did this relationship become, as you've described it, complicated?

(NOTE: Patient is silent for a moment, and I can almost see the thought processes working. Finally, he speaks hesitantly with carefully chosen words.)

HOYT: It was that spring. After we first met. We'd already worked together a couple of times, like I told you. She was hot, no doubt. We had a lot of fun working together, and we even got together a couple of times for drinks at her dad's bar. I thought about asking her out, but I don't know. She seemed like one of those girls in high school, you know, the cheerleaders, the prom queens. The kind who never pay you any attention, or if they do, they only think of you as a kid brother. I was about to forget the whole thing. But then things just sort of happened.

(NOTE: His voice trails off, and after a moment, I have to prompt him to continue.)

DR. CARTER: Happened how?

HOYT: I heard around that she was seeing this guy. An Assistant District Attorney. Myers was his name. It didn't go so well from what I heard, and he really slammed her on the stand during a hearing. She was pretty rattled by it. I really felt bad for her when I heard that. Then we worked together on this case at a mental hospital, and one of the patients said he knew who had killed her mother. This nutcase sent her on a wild goose chase. She totally lost it. She quit her job, took off for California to try and find this guy…

DR. CARTER: And you went after her.

HOYT: ….Yeah.

DR. CARTER: Why?

HOYT: Because she was my friend, and she was alone. She was vulnerable. She needed my help.

DR. CARTER: But nothing romantic, besides the one kiss in the desert you mentioned before, happened after this incident. You were just "dancing," correct?

HOYT: Correct.

DR. CARTER: Were you seeing any other women during this time?

HOYT: Casual. Here and there. Nothing serious.

DR. CARTER: How was your relationship with Dr. Cavanaugh affected by your relationship with the young M.E. who was killed in the plane crash?

(NOTE: He visibly tenses again.)

HOYT: How did you know about her? What does she have to do with anything? How did you even know about her?

DR. CARTER: The department requires a counseling session for all crime scene personnel after a mass fatality like that, as you know. There are copies of the notes in your file. You said in the session that you were friends, and that you had seen each other outside of work. I thought maybe…

HOYT: Jesus! What am I? Under a microscope? Why not just rip me open? I can't have any secrets?

DR. CARTER: Was your relationship with her a secret?

HOYT: No! Don't twist my words! We were just…

DR. CARTER: Friends?

HOYT: Yes! No! I…_shit_.

(NOTE: Patient stands at this point and paces in front of my desk. He stands at the window impassively for a minute before resuming his seat. He takes a deep breath before speaking again.)

HOYT: Jordan and I weren't clicking at the time. I wasn't getting anywhere. We made plans, and she blew me off a couple of times. Devan and I were thrown together, and we started hanging out. She needed a friend. She was pretty broken up about her ex-boyfriend, and she wasn't sure what she was going to do after her fellowship at the morgue ended. Look, it was no big deal. Things just happened.

DR. CARTER: But after her death, you and Dr. Cavanaugh started seeing each other socially again?

HOYT: Yeah. Same dance.

DR. CARTER: You gave her the ring that spring, and she turned it down.

HOYT: Damn, thanks for opening that old wound. Why not just rub salt in it while you're at it?

DR. CARTER: So, it continued this way, from what you told me last time. You and Dr. Cavanaugh would grow closer, and then something would pull you apart.

HOYT: Sort of. Yeah.

DR. CARTER: Why do you think that is? Most potentially romantic relationships progress toward some kind of natural conclusion pretty quickly. Why not this one? You've known Dr. Cavanaugh for what, almost five years? What's different?

HOYT: Isn't that what you're supposed to tell me?

DR. CARTER: It usually works best if the patients figure it out for themselves.

HOYT: Well, I guess it did "progress toward some kind of natural conclusion." I thought we were finally on the same page when we…slept together. Then she wouldn't even tell Pollack about us. So, that fizzled out pretty quick.

DR. CARTER: Is that what you think? That your budding relationship was sabotaged by her failure to tell her boyfriend that she had cheated on him in a timeframe that was satisfactory to you?

HOYT: Don't make me look like the bad guy, here. This wasn't about me. I was trying to make it easy for her. I gave her time and space to deal after Pollack skipped out on her. She knew all along how I felt about her. I never hid it. She blew it. What was so great about that asshole, anyway? His cute little accent? His writer-boy smooth talk?

DR. CARTER: Wait…I guess I'm not understanding the chronology here. You were intimate. You returned to Boston. You prodded her to tell her boyfriend about what had happened. In the meantime, he figured it out on his own, and as a result, he and Dr. Cavanaugh ended their relationship. So…?

HOYT: So?

DR. CARTER: She's free. You're free.

HOYT: It was too soon. She needed space. I didn't want to be her rebound guy.

DR. CARTER: Did it ever occur to you that perhaps J.D. Pollack was her rebound guy from _you?_

HOYT: She needed space.

DR. CARTER: Did she ask for space?

HOYT: Not in so many words, no.

DR. CARTER: So, you gave her the space you thought she needed by beginning a romantic relationship with Det. Simmons.

HOYT: What, are you going to drag out every old girlfriend of mine?

DR. CARTER: I don't know. Should I?

HOYT: Well, gee, there was Mary Sue Smith in second grade, and I used to dip her pigtails in the inkwell. Do you think there's some kind of hidden meaning there? No, this is bullshit. This has nothing to do with anything. What does Lu have to do with this?

DR. CARTER: She was your therapist, and you later developed a romantic relationship. Det. Simmons is lucky she still has her job.

HOYT: She didn't do anything wrong.

DR. CARTER; She cleared you for duty. Do I have to remind you of one of the reasons why you're here today?

(NOTE: At this point, I read off a list of complaints that had been made about him since his return to duty post-shooting last fall. Harassing witnesses, physical intimidation of suspects, etc.)

HOYT: I told you I'm working through that. I'm getting better.

DR. CARTER: And we'll come to that. Right now, I am interested in your relationship with Det. Simmons and how that came about.

HOYT: Why? What do Lu and Jordan and me beating on some scumbag perps have to do with each other?

DR. CARTER: I'm of the school that believes nothing is unrelated. Humor me.

HOYT: What do you want to know? Where we first did it? Was she good in bed?

DR. CARTER: How you started seeing each other will suffice.

HOYT: We worked a couple of cases together. She was a good detective. Did her job.

DR. CARTER: Were you seeing Dr. Cavanaugh during this time period?

HOYT: No. She was…busy.

DR. CARTER: Busy how?

HOYT: Her boss was going through some personal things. His daughter was kidnapped. He was trying to get off the sauce, and Jordan was helping him through that.

DR. CARTER: And she didn't have time for you.

HOYT: No. We just sort of kept missing each other.

DR. CARTER: This is when you developed a relationship with Det. Simmons, correct?

HOYT: Yes.

DR. CARTER: What changed?

HOYT: What do you mean?

DR. CARTER: Well, you've been couching your feelings about Det. Simmons in terms of her professional abilities. She was a "good detective." She "did her job." What changed?

HOYT: I don't know. Things just happened.

DR. CARTER: Is that what you think?

HOYT: Wait, let me guess. You're of the school that believes things don't "just happen."

DR. CARTER: Pretty much. Why did you suddenly see her in a different light?

HOYT: I don't know. I forget.

DR. CARTER: Come on, detective. It was only a couple of months ago. Surely your memory is keener than that.

HOYT: It just sort of happened.

DR. CARTER: That's not the first time you've said that. It "just happened." As a matter of fact, you've said it about every woman you've mentioned today. Dr. Cavanaugh, Dr. McGuire, Det. Simmons. Do you really believe that? Is that the amount of control that you feel you have over your relationships? What was it that changed the nature of your professional relationship with Det. Simmons?

HOYT: I told you, I don't know.

DR. CARTER: I think you do.

HOYT: And I think you're full of it.

DR. CARTER: Okay, we'll try it this way. What was going on in your lives just before you started seeing Det. Simmons romantically?

HOYT: Nothing.

DR. CARTER: Nothing? A busy detective like you? Life is that dull?

HOYT: This is bullshit.

DR. CARTER: What was going on, detective? I know you had another mandatory counseling session with Dr. Stiles during this time period. Why?

HOYT: Because of the subway bombings.

DR. CARTER: And you consider that nothing? There's a reason they require those sessions. You must have all been shattered by your experience.

HOYT: I guess.

DR. CARTER: Det. Simmons was on that case, wasn't she?

HOYT: Yeah, so?

DR. CARTER: How did she handle it?

HOYT: Not well.

DR. CARTER: How do you know?

HOYT: She...come on. This is bullshit.

DR. CARTER: How do you know she didn't handle it well? Did she talk to you about it?

HOYT: She'd lost a family member before. She was having a hard time dealing with all those kids in the subway. She was hurting, she leaned on my shoulder, and…

DR. CARTER: And?

HOYT: And we kissed.

DR. CARTER: How did you feel as a result of that?

HOYT: I couldn't stop thinking about it.

DR. CARTER: So, after years of a self-described dance with Dr. Cavanaugh, who has been this unattainable object of desire for you, you suddenly turn your allegiance to Det. Simmons?

HOYT: Hey, I didn't turn my allegiance to anyone. Jordan had moved on. She was busy playing angel of mercy to Dr. Macy and trying to adopt a foster child.

DR. CARTER: So your relationship with Det. Simmons had less to do with her than it had to do with Dr. Cavanaugh?

HOYT: Would you stop putting words in my mouth? That's not what I said.

DR. CARTER: So far you haven't said anything, really. What was it about Det, Simmons that caused you to abandon your pursuit of Dr. Cavanaugh and being a romantic relationship with her?

HOYT: It just happened.

DR. CARTER: Try something else. What was it? Why did her opening up to you about her personal tragedy cause you to see her in a romantic light?

HOYT: I don't know!

DR. CARTER: That's not going to get your badge back, detective.

HOYT: Fuck you!

DR. CARTER: What was it? Why did you suddenly want to pursue a romantic relationship with Det. Simmons when you had only seen her in a professional light?

HOYT: Just because…

DR. CARTER: Because why? Why did you suddenly develop romantic feelings for Det. Simmons?

HOYT: Because…

DR. CARTER: Why? Because why?

HOYT: Because she needed me, all right? She needed me, and Jordan didn't!

(NOTE: At this point, he collapsed back into his chair. I allowed a silence while he contemplated his revelation.)

DR. CARTER: Now we're getting somewhere.

XXXXX

DOCTOR'S NOTE: The subject seemed understandably exhausted, so I ended the session, and he quickly left. He made arrangements to meet at the same time next week. I've concluded that the subject has developed a persona for himself of the stoic, cheerful "All-American" type as some sort of defensive mechanism. His relationships are particularly telling. He seems to frequently cast himself as the hero of his own romantic fairy tales, and then feels betrayed when things don't always happen according to his own plans. I intend to read his personnel file in depth before our next session. I would like to explore his formative years, particularly his past relationships, in our next sessions to determine a pattern.


	3. Session 3

SUBJECT: HOYT, WOODROW W.  
MEMO TO FILE  
RE: SESSION #3

The subject cancelled his scheduled third session, citing a family emergency. Although he made another appointment at the time, he cancelled that one as well. Nearly a month passed before Det. Hoyt returned to my office for his session. Given the amount of time that had passed and my in-depth study of his files, I had concerns that we might have to start over essentially.

When the subject arrived his attitude was decidedly wary, as if he expected to be reprimanded for his failure to appear as planned. He immediately informed me that he'd been in Wisconsin, helping his brother through some difficulties. As I had been hoping to begin discussing his family relationships, this provided me with a natural opening and chance to put the subject more at ease.

DR.CARTER: Are things better for your brother – Cal, right?

(NOTE: Patient hung his head for a moment and sighed. When he looked back up, he gave me a wry smile. I noted the emergence of the previously noted stoic, cheerful veneer he affects. The subject became quite affable even.)

HOYT: Yeah. For now. The kid is great. Nice. Smart, if he'd ever use what's between his ears. Great personality.

DR. CARTER: But…?

HOYT: Unh… gets mixed up with the wrong type of people, doesn't know how to get himself out of jams. You know.

DR. CARTER: And you do know how to get him out of jams?

HOYT: Sure. What are big brothers for?

DR. CARTER: That doesn't make you… resentful?

HOYT: Well, yeah. Sometimes. I mean, he's done some really dumb stuff. This one time he almost got Jordan killed and… uh, yeah. I mean, it's not always easy, but he's my kid brother. What can I do?

DR. CARTER: Cal was about fourteen or fifteen when you dad died, right?

(NOTE: Patient tensed at this point. His demeanor shifted from the affable, "aw shucks" one he'd been presenting to a more serious expression. Again, while I did not doubt the sincerity of his emotions, I felt I was witnessing another façade, that of the traditional, "man of the house," pillar of strength.)

HOYT: About that, yeah.

DR. CARTER: And your mom died when you were…?

HOYT (barely audible): Four.

(NOTE: Outward physical signs of anxiety and grief were observable when the subject's mother was mentioned. He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, clenched his jaw and began to scratch the thumb of his left hand with his index finger. My feeling was that for the first time I was seeing through the variety of layers the subject has built up to protect himself.)

DR. CARTER: That must have been really hard to understand at that age.

HOYT (shrugging): I bet it's kind of hard to understand at any age.

(NOTE: The subject might as well have slammed a door in my face or hung out a sign, so forceful was the assumption of his previous veneer.)

HOYT: I don't really remember her that much.

DR. CARTER: What do you remember?

HOYT (long hesitation): Her pictures – She was really pretty. She used to sing lullabies, my dad told me. Well, he told me they were lullabies. (Subject laughed softly, almost privately). Turns out they were Irish drinking songs and stuff like that. She was fun. I mean, I guess. My dad would say that. Sometimes.

DR. CARTER: When?

HOYT: When he'd have too much to drink.

DR. CARTER: Did that happen a lot?

HOYT (shook head): No. I don't think so. Just when he got – you know – when he missed her.

DR. CARTER: Tell me just one thing you remember. You. Not something someone told you or something you saw.

HOYT: (another long hesitation): Climbing on her lap. I didn't understand at the time, but it was hard to get up there. She was pregnant with Cal. I remember her laughing; she had this great laugh. Actually, Jordan… never mind.

(NOTE: Did not push subject despite the mention of Dr. Cavanaugh's name, but do plan to return to this).

DR. CARTER: Does Cal have the same sort of memories?

HOYT: No.

DR. CARTER: Why not?

HOYT: She died. Cal was – I don't know – he could walk, but that was about it. After that, Dad always kind of – I don't know – I guess Cal was – was his favorite.

DR. CARTER: That wasn't fair.

HOYT (shrugged): Life isn't fair.

DR. CARTER: It's pretty amazing.

HOYT: What is?

DR. CARTER: That you don't resent Cal a lot.

HOYT: Why should I?

DR. CARTER: I'm not saying you should, Detective. I'm just saying it's amazing. A lot of people in your situation would. You seem to deal with it pretty well.

HOYT: It's not like any of it was his fault. Not really.

DR. CARTER: Not really?

HOYT: What?

DR. CARTER: You said _not really_.

HOYT: No, I didn't.

DR. CARTER: You did.

HOYT: I didn't mean to.

DR. CARTER: You didn't mean to or you didn't mean to say it aloud?

(NOTE: Subject stood up and paced the office as on previous visits. He stopped again at my family photo, studying it intently. Before he turned around, his shoulders tensed up and I noticed that he once again clenched his jaw.)

HOYT: How's your family, Doc?

DR. CARTER: They're fine. Thanks for asking.

HOYT: All happy and perfect?

DR. CARTER: No family is perfect. But, overall, yeah, we're pretty happy.

HOYT: That's good. Nice to hear.

DR. CARTER: Woody, what did you mean?

(NOTE: As before, I felt the subject let down his guard for just a moment and that I could see more of Woody Hoyt than he likes to let anyone even know exists. What I saw can only be described as a very young, lonely and frightened little boy. I had doubts that he would answer me.)

HOYT: It wasn't Cal's fault.

DR. CARTER: You said that. Then you added _not really_. What did that mean?

HOYT (barely audible, slowly): They found the tumor when she was pregnant with him. They might have saved her. But she had him instead. She – She left. On purpose. My dad let her.

(NOTE: I felt it took the subject some courage to admit this to me and am certain it is the first time he had ever vocalized this to himself, let alone another human being.)

DR. CARTER: So… if she hadn't had Cal… she would have lived?

(NOTE: Subject made only a physical response to my question – a shrug, the type typical of small children trying to determine what sort of answer the adult wants from them.)

DR. CARTER: Do you wish she'd had an abortion?

HOYT: NO! God, no! That's – That's wrong! I mean, I'm not the best Catholic out there, but… God. NO. No. My dad… un huh… he was really clear about that sort of thing.

DR. CARTER: You and your dad talked about it?

HOYT: No. Of course not.

DR. CARTER: Why _of course not_?

HOYT (another shrug): I don't know. That wasn't the sort of thing we talked about.

DR. CARTER: How did your dad deal with her death?

HOYT: He… uh… I don't know. He just dealt with it. In his way, I guess. He had to work a lot.

DR. CARTER: He was a police officer, too, right?

HOYT: Yeah.

(NOTE: I moved away from the topic of his mother's death and asked the subject some questions about his life with his father and brother. The subject seemed to relax at this line of questioning. We talked about camping trips the family had taken, about hunting and fishing. The subject seemed quite happy to reminisce about trips to the University of Wisconsin to see college football games. He relaxed further as he told me how each summer the family would head to Milwaukee for one weekend, to watch baseball games. As he continued to speak, I felt I was listening to a campfire story, almost. It seemed very rehearsed, the memories and events very standard, almost idyllic in some ways. Even his mother's death took on what I can only call a "romantic" air).

DR. CARTER: So you wanted to be just like your dad.

HOYT: Yeah. Well, not _just_ like him. (Subject grew somber again, re-assuming the previously noted "man of the house "veneer.") I didn't want to get shot in the back and die a painful death, obviously.

DR. CARTER: Obviously. But other than that….

HOYT: Uh. Yeah. Maybe. I didn't want to lose the woman I loved in some stupid – like he did.

DR. CARTER: Is there a smart way to lose someone you love?

HOYT (long hesitation, as if the question didn't quite process with him): No. I – No. (Slight chuckle.)

DR. CARTER: So, what do you think is the best way to hold on to a woman?

HOYT: You tell me, Doc. You're the one who's happily married, right? So what's the secret? Wait, I bet you're not going to tell me. It's going to be one of those things that'll work better if I figure it out for myself.

DR. CARTER: Hey, careful there. You're starting to do my job for me. (At this point I made a point of checking my watch.) Well, looks like you're out of here for today, Detective.

HOYT: Great! Is – Is there anything else?

DR. CARTER: What do you think?

HOYT: Great. You know, Doc, for a minute there I think I almost forgot you were a shrink. Guess I'll make an appointment on my way out, huh?

XXX

DOCTOR'S NOTE: I believe we made a breakthrough today. The patient's vocalization regarding the circumstances surrounding his mother's death is, as noted above, something I think he had never done before. I believe his reaction to this event, coupled with that of his father's, may hold a key to his relationships with women. I believe those relationships also hold a key to his recent problems. I'd like to explore his early attempts at romantic relationships in future sessions, to determine if the theory noted after the last session is true. If it is, we can then progress toward more realistic expectations for him in terms of relationships.

Signed: J. Carter, Psy.D.


	4. Session 4

SUBJECT: HOYT, WOODROW W.  
MEMO TO FILE  
RE: SESSION #4

Subject appeared as scheduled for today's session. I was startled by his appearance when he entered the room. He is usually immaculately dressed and groomed, but his clothes and hair were disheveled, and he sported several days' growth of beard. He was cooperative as we opened the session with casual questions about the past week. However, he appeared tired and distracted, and despite his occasional forced attempts at breezy affability, it was clear that he wanted to be anywhere else but my office. After the breakthrough of our last session regarding his family, I was eager to pick up the thread of our previous conversation.

DR. CARTER: So, how's your brother? Is he doing all right? Anything changed since last week?

HOYT: Yeah, he's okay. Same old knucklehead.

DR. CARTER: I don't know how you managed it. Helping to raise a brother who was, what, only a year younger?

HOYT: (with a wry smile) Fourteen months.

DR. CARTER: It must have been hard.

HOYT: You gotta do what you gotta do.

DR. CARTER: Still, it hardly seems fair.

HOYT: Who said life was supposed to be fair? We did all right.

DR. CARTER: Indeed. The way you describe things, it sounds as if you had an idyllic childhood. Kewaunee sounds like a great place to grow up.

HOYT: A regular Mayberry RFD.

DR. CARTER: Appropriate, since your father was the town sheriff.

HOYT: I guess that would make me Opie, right?

DR. CARTER: Tell me more about your father. What was he like?

HOYT: Strong. Brave. Very brave. I never saw him afraid. He was strict. A real disciplinarian. Very Mid-Western, you know? Athletic. He played minor league baseball one summer before he met my mom. He was kind of larger than life to me and Cal. Like Gary Cooper, John Wayne, and Steve McQueen all rolled into one.

DR. CARTER: That's a hard standard to live up to.

(NOTE: Subject visibly stiffens, and the façade of affability is quickly and immediately dropped.)

HOYT; Live up to? I'm not trying to live up to him. What, just because he was a cop, I became a cop, too, to try and prove something? I'm not trying to live up to my father.

DR. CARTER: That's not what I said, Woody. I meant that's a hard standard for _anyone_ to live up to. Including your father.

(NOTE: He doesn't speak for a moment. His eyes flit around the room: at the floor, the lamp, anywhere but on me. When he speaks again, it is with great weariness.)

HOYT: Look. Doc. You've been straight with me, and I'm sure you're a good doctor, but I really just don't see what my dad has to do with anything.

DR. CARTER: You don't think very highly of this, do you? Psychology.

HOYT: Not really. No offense.

DR. CARTER: None taken.

HOYT: People need to just get over themselves, you know? Stop whining. So you had a few rough breaks. Man up. Get over it.

DR. CARTER: Your mother died when you were four. Your father was gunned down before you graduated from high school, leaving you to look after a troubled brother with a substance abuse problem. Then, last year you were shot with an armor-piercing bullet and were centimeters away from death. I think you have everyone's permission to say that you've had more than a few rough breaks.

HOYT: You know what's wrong with society today? It's people whining. People blaming their problems on the fact that their mommy potty-trained them too soon. What's wrong with being happy?

DR. CARTER: Nothing. If you're happy.

(NOTE: Subject seems shocked by this statement. His mouth drops, but no words follow. He finally drops his head, and sits with his elbows on his knees, his gaze cast downward. I proceed cautiously.)

DR. CARTER: No one's forcing you to be here, Woody. If you want to know the truth, I don't think you're ready to go back on active duty. But it's up to you. You can get up right now and never look back. If you don't want to be here, there's really nothing I can do for you. You need to decide how important your badge is to you. Choices. It's all about choices.

(NOTE: There is a brief silence while he contemplates this. He responds in a small, almost childlike tone.)

HOYT: You really think I've got problems?

DR. CARTER: I've never met anyone who didn't have at least a few.

HOYT: You think it's got something to do with when I was a kid?

DR. CARTER: It seems like a good enough place to start.

HOYT: What do you want to know?

DR. CARTER: I'm interested in something you said at our last session. You mentioned that you thought Cal was your father's favorite. Why is that?

HOYT: I don't know. Isn't the youngest always the dad's favorite?

DR. CARTER: Not necessarily.

HOYT: Well…I guess they had a lot in common. They always looked a lot alike. Cal's always been good at sports. My dad used to coach his little league team. They played in a father-son basketball league. Stuff like that.

DR. CARTER: And you weren't as athletic?

HOYT: That's putting it gently. I was sort of a chubby kid, and I had kind of a stammer. The kids always called me "Woody Woodpecker." I hated baseball and basketball. I did fence, though. That's not really what my dad had in mind for me. One day I saw "The Three Musketeers" on TV, and I knew that's what I wanted to do – fencing. It looked so hard. You had to be strong and fit, but it was so graceful, too. I told my dad I wanted to take fencing lessons.

DR. CARTER: What did he say?

HOYT: Well, he said he thought fencing was for fairies, but he let me sign up for lessons anyway. Fencing gave me confidence, and I got in great shape. Even when I got in high school and I lost the baby fat and stopped stammering, everybody still of thought of me as "Woody Woodpecker." Yeah, I was a _real_ success with the ladies.

DR. CARTER: So, you didn't date much?

HOYT: I didn't date _any_. Not until senior year.

DR. CARTER: What was her name? Is that when you lost your virginity?

HOYT: Man! You really cut to the chase, don't you? Okay… her name was Suzie Reeves. Senior year. I'd been chasing her all fall. Finally, I got up the nerve to ask her to the Homecoming dance, and she said yes. I picked her up at her house, and you should have seen my hands shaking when I pinned the corsage on. I was driving my dad's old pick-up that night, and we parked on the way home from the dance. Man, was I nervous. I spread out a blanket in the back, and afterwards, we just lay there looking up at the stars. I gave her my class ring when I dropped her off. She put it on a chain and swore she'd wear it all year, but she dumped me a couple of weeks later for a football player. Typical female, huh?

(NOTE: Subject has related this story with warm nostalgia. It is, of course, an utter fabrication, a depiction of the ideal American high school love story complete with Homecoming dance, class ring, and bittersweet heartbreak.)

DR. CARTER: Is that how it really happened, Woody?

HOYT: …No.

DR. CARTER: What _did _happen?

(NOTE: Subect does not speak for a long moment. I can see the emotion playing on his face. When he speaks, it is with great difficulty. He seems weighted down with sadness.)

HOYT: When my dad died, I got a job after class working in the school office. Photocopying for the teachers, sorting mail. Things like that. There was a teacher, Mrs. Hill, Christine Hill, who used to come in and ask me to carry stuff to her car for her. She was young. Pretty. No more than thirty. All the guys had a crush on her. I liked her. She was nice to me. She treated me like a normal human being. Not the sheriff's kid. Not the fat kid with the stammer. I overheard things in the office from other teachers. Her husband had moved out on her. He was being a real bastard. I felt so sorry for her. She knew I needed money, and she asked me to come to her house and do some odd jobs for her. I started spending more and more time there. Sometimes I'd mow the lawn or do some work around the house. Other times, we'd just sit there at the kitchen table and talk and she'd make me something to eat. She seemed so sad and lonely. Like she had no one else to talk to. I knew she was going through a hard time. One day she started crying, just burst into tears there at the kitchen table, and – I don't know what I was thinking – but I just reached over and kissed her. I don't know why. She was just so – _alone_. We went into the living room. I don't know how we ended up there. I didn't know what I was doing. I was scared as hell, but I couldn't stop. We had sex there. That was my first time. Afterwards, we both felt terrible. She didn't say anything. She just grabbed her clothes and ran up the steps into the shower. I got dressed and got out of there as fast as I could.

DR. CARTER: What happened after that? Did you see her again?

HOYT: Yeah. At first we said we wouldn't. She was a teacher. I was too young. She could get fired or worse. But then, I don't know. We started up again. I'd go to her place after school. Sometimes we'd have sex, sometimes we'd just talk. Then I'd go home and make dinner for Cal, help him with his homework.

DR. CARTER: How did you feel about your relationship with Christine?

HOYT: I knew it was wrong. It's every teenage boy's dream to make it with his hot teacher, right? It didn't feel that way to me. I heard some of the guys in the locker room talking about her. What they'd like to do to her. God, it made me sick.

DR. CARTER: What did you do?

HOYT: Nothing. What could I do? I wanted to defend her. I wanted to pound the shit out of them, but I couldn't. Everybody at school was worried about who they were going to take to the prom, and here I was sleeping with one of the teachers. I'd go to school, and to everyone I was still the big fat loser who couldn't get a girl. I'd pass her in the halls, and it just felt so…_awful_.

DR. CARTER: But you didn't stop it.

HOYT: No. I couldn't do that.

DR. CARTER: Why not?

HOYT: I don't know. She needed me. I was in love with her. I thought I was.

DR. CARTER: How did it end?

HOYT: This went on for a few months. One day at school, she seemed real worried. I pulled her aside and asked her what was wrong, and she told me she thought she might be pregnant. God, I felt like the floor had opened up underneath me. There we were, standing in the empty gym, and one of the teachers is telling me she thinks she's pregnant.

DR. CARTER: How did you react?

HOYT: I…didn't handle it all that well.

DR. CARTER: You were upset.

HOYT: No, I didn't get upset exactly. Shit. I…_Jesus_. I. I told her she should push for the divorce. I told her I'd marry her as soon as I turned eighteen. Christ.

DR. CARTER: What did she say?

HOYT: She laughed. Not in a mean way, but she actually laughed. She said she thought I was sweet, and she was grateful for all I had done for her, but she couldn't marry me. That was it. She walked out of the gym. I didn't see her for a few days. She avoided me at school. One day she called in sick, and I was worried. I went over to her house after school, and when I got there, I saw another car in the driveway. I knew right away who it was. She was there with her husband. She told me that she'd been seeing him for a couple of weeks and they were going to try and work it out. Then she told me to leave and never tell anyone about us and never try and contact her again.

DR. CARTER: What about the baby?

HOYT: There was no baby. False alarm. Jesus, what an idiot. I don't know what I was thinking.

DR. CARTER: You were only seventeen. She was probably closer to thirty. Did you really want to marry her?

HOYT: I don't know. I thought I loved her. I thought she was pregnant with my baby.

DR. CARTER: And that's what gentlemen do.

HOYT: I take responsibility for my actions.

DR. CARTER: You think proposing to a thirty year old married woman was the most responsible thing you could have done?

HOYT: Yes, I do.

DR. CARTER: You were the victim here, Woody. You were underage. She was your teacher.

HOYT: Hey, it takes two, doc. I'm not going to blame her. I don't run away from my mistakes. I face up to them. She was alone. Her husband had skipped out on her, and she needed someone.

DR. CARTER: And Woody Hoyt was the only man who could fill the bill.

HOYT: She thought she was pregnant, and it was _my_ baby.

DR. CARTER: She told you she'd been seeing her husband for a few weeks. If she were truly pregnant, it could have been his baby, too.

HOYT: No. That's not it. It's not true. She wouldn't have done that.

DR. CARTER: Did you ever see her again?

HOYT: No. She didn't come back to school after Christmas break. I heard she and her husband had patched it up, and she'd taken a new job in Milwaukee.

DR. CARTER: How did your relationship with her affect the rest of your senior year?

HOYT: I remember getting razzed by this guy. A real jerk. He'd been picking on me since we were six. He was giving me a hard time in the locker room one time. Asking me if I was still a virgin. I remember wishing I still was.

(NOTE: We then go into some detail regarding subject's pursuant romantic relationships. He states that he after his affair with the teacher, he was hesitant to enter into another relationship until late in his senior year when he briefly dated another student who stood him up on prom night. He later discovered her in bed with his brother. He informs me that he dated "casually" in college. The relationships were invariably physical, but he states the he didn't feel that he was in love with any of them. My impression is that he was and is confused and disappointed by this. He stated more than once that he was not interested in "meaningless sex." Subject also recounted his relationship with a young woman, Annie, to whom he was engaged. He says that he broke off the engagement because her father felt he was "not good enough" for his daughter and would not give his approval for the marriage.)

DR. CARTER: Was that really it?

HOYT: Yeah, so?

DR. CARTER: We're not living in the 18th century. You didn't need her father's permission.

HOYT: I didn't want to live with that kind of disapproval for the rest of my life.

(NOTE: There is a lull in the conversation, and I turn the questioning back to Christine Hill.)

DR. CARTER: What is your attitude towards Christine now?

HOYT: I don't have one.

DR. CARTER: She was your first love. Your first sexual relationship. You never think about her?

HOYT: No. Not if I can help it.

(NOTE: Another brief silence. When he speaks, he seems genuinely bewildered.)

HOYT: I've never told anyone about her before. Why did I tell you about her?

DR. CARTER: Maybe because it's time.

XXXX

DOCTOR'S NOTE: We ended the session early, as subject seemed drained. I feel that we have made real progress today, particularly in the area of his past romantic relationships with women. My earlier thoughts have been borne out by today's admissions. Subject is drawn to women who need him, who seemingly need rescue, and he is bitter and angry when his carefully constructed romantic idyll is shattered. However, he hides his feelings of resentment beneath another constructed reality: the persona of the hero, the All-American, happy-go-lucky type. I feel strongly that the root of this problem lies in his relationship with his father and the death of both of his parents. I will pursue this at our next appointment.

Signed: J. Carter, Psy.D.


	5. Session 5

SUBJECT: HOYT, WOODROW W.  
MEMO TO FILE  
RE: SESSION #5

Subject arrived today early for his session. His appearance was much the same as last time, though his face was worn and haggard. He moved quickly into the chair opposite my desk and spoke brusquely, explaining he would like to get through "things" as quickly as possible. Though I suspected I knew the reason, I asked him why that was. He then asked me if I had seen news reports about the hostage situation and subsequent high-speed police chase four days previously. I had, of course, and I knew perfectly well who had been taken hostage and then injured in the crash: Dr. Cavanaugh. Subject insisted he needed to get back to the hospital as soon as he could.

DR. CARTER: How is she doing? The news reports have been pretty vague.

HOYT: She's been better. Concussion, few cracked ribs. The asshole tried to stab her but – but – well, she's Jordan.

DR. CARTER: Meaning…?

HOYT: (with a snort) Meaning she zigged when he thought she'd zag. He got her, but not in the abdomen like he'd hoped. Upper thigh. Bunch of stitches. Her doctor says she'll have a scar, but she'll be fine.

DR. CARTER: So you've been… what? Watching over her?

HOYT: You have to know Jordan. She's bored senseless in that place. Someone's gotta be there otherwise she'd probably check herself out and head straight back to work. Anyway, it's not just me. Her boss, some of the people she works with – they spend a lot of time there, too.

DR. CARTER: I see.

HOYT: What? What does that mean?

DR. CARTER: Nothing, Woody.

HOYT: No. It means something. Everything means something with you guys!

DR. CARTER: All right. Tell me – do you feel responsible for the fact that Dr. Cavanaugh is lying in a hospital bed with a concussion, a few cracked ribs and a stab wound in her thigh?

HOYT: (goes pale, fingers clench the arms of the chair, speaks in soft, but almost menacing tones) Why would I feel responsible?

DR. CARTER: You were the officer in charge at the scene, right?

HOYT: So what? I told Jordan to stay back, but she always knows better. She doesn't learn.

DR. CARTER: So this is her fault?

HOYT; NO! Damn you, no! It's the perp, the guy who did this. But….

DR. CARTER: But what, Detective?

(NOTE: He is silent for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts, planning how to respond. I can almost see the careful craftsmanship he puts into his words.)

HOYT: I worry about her. That's all. She – She needs someone to – to do that.

DR. CARTER: You said her boss and some co-workers were there.

HOYT: Yeah, but – I mean – She just – I can't explain it.

DR. CARTER: Can't or don't want to?

HOYT: (deep sigh) Shit. I swear. I care about her. We're friends. I want to be there for her. She doesn't have that many people. End of story.

DR. CARTER: You mean, besides her boss and co-workers, she doesn't have family?

HOYT: (shakes head) Her mom – uh – her mom died when she was young. Killed, actually. Murdered. Her dad – Well, she and her dad – He left town a few years ago. It was hard on her, but good, kind of. He – um – He kept a lot of things from her.

DR. CARTER: Hmm…. Sounds like you and Dr. Cavanaugh have a lot in common. Is that what drew you to her?

(NOTE: Subject attempts to resume his "normal" affability, but his voice remains flat, his eyes wary. His body language is disengaged from our session.)

HOYT: Are you kidding? You've _seen_ Jordan, right? She's gorgeous. And smart. And – And tenacious. Funny. Loyal.

DR. CARTER: I guess she knows who to ask if she ever needs help writing a personal ad.

HOYT: Funny.

DR. CARTER: I wasn't kidding.

(NOTE: Subject contemplates this silently. We sit for several minutes before it becomes clear that the subject has shut down. I try a new tack.)

DR. CARTER: Do you think your father would have liked Dr. Cavanaugh?

HOYT: What?

DR. CARTER: Your dad. Would he have liked Dr. Cavanaugh?

HOYT: Yeah. I guess. Yeah. Yeah. Why?

DR. CARTER: I don't know. It seemed like we needed a new… topic of conversation.

HOYT: My dad isn't exactly a 'new topic of conversation', Doc.

DR. CARTER: True. So, why don't you tell me a little more about him?

HOYT: I think I hit the highlights last time.

DR. CARTER: Maybe so. Tell me some of the details this time.

HOYT: What? Like how tall he was? What color eyes he had?

DR. CARTER: If that's what you want to tell me.

HOYT: Un-huh, no. There's more to this. Just tell me what you want me to say – what you want to know. Quit playing this bullshit game with me!

DR. CARTER: Woody, I've told you before – you don't have to be here. It's your choice. If you really think this a bullshit game, then you can leave. Anytime you want.

HOYT: And ride a desk for the rest of my career. No thanks. (Sighs and rubs a hand through his hair). Come on, Doc. Just ask me a question, willya'?

DR. CARTER: Fine. How did you feel about your dad?

HOYT: Feel about him? How do you think I felt about him? Christ, what kind of kid do you think I was? He was my _dad_! I loved him.

DR. CARTER: I'm not suggesting you didn't, Woody. But our relationships with our parents are very rarely that simple and straightforward. And it usually affects us for the rest of our lives.

HOYT: Yeah? Well, not me. My dad wasn't perfect, but he did the best he could and I know that. I'm not trying to prove anything to him, so you can forget that idea.

DR. CARTER: I never suggested you were trying to prove anything to him.

HOYT: Yeah, you did. You did.

DR. CARTER: No. I didn't, Woody.

(NOTE: Subject began to shift uncomfortably in his chair, refusing to make eye contact. He started to pick at a hangnail on one finger, wincing when he pulled the loose skin and tore it. He looked up only after I repeated his name several times. His expression was a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. I encouraged him to talk.)

HOYT: He – He wasn't a mean guy. You know that, right?

DR. CARTER: Of course.

HOYT: He just – He – uh – I told you I was kind of – of chubby as a kid. Had this stutter.

DR. CARTER: And your brother was the athletic one.

HOYT: Yeah. Um – I – uh – they kind of used to – uh – to razz me. Not to be mean. Just – um – you know – to make me – I guess – stronger.

DR. CARTER: To make you more of a man.

HOYT (eager): Yeah. Yeah. He had – His intentions… they were good, you know? (Subject reverts to façade of affable, all-American boy). Um – You should have seen him the first time he took me hunting and I – I shot a duck. He was – was slapping me on the back, calling me a man, telling me how proud he was of me.

DR. CARTER: That must have felt good.

HOYT: Yeah. It really did. It was – It was kind of the first time I didn't feel like I let him down. (Subject smiles.) I actually have better aim and more patience than Cal.

DR. CARTER: Is that when you started to think about becoming a cop?

HOYT (shrugs): I guess. Maybe. Yeah. I think so.

DR. CARTER: Did you tell your dad that?

HOYT: Sure! I – He was pretty happy about it.

DR. CARTER: Proud of you.

HOYT: Proud of me. Yeah.

(NOTE: Subject's façade of affability seems to begin to crumble as I watch. The process is slow and I feel I can literally see the wheels turning in his head as he thinks over this turn in our "conversation." I allow him some time to reflect before continuing).

DR. CARTER: Did you ever really have that talk with your dad?

HOYT (delayed response): No. Un huh. He – um – He never knew. I wanted to be a cop. I was going to surprise him.

DR. CARTER: You were going to prove to him that you could have just as much in common with him as Cal did.

HOYT: I guess.

DR. CARTER: Maybe be a little bit better at some things?

HOYT (long pause): Maybe.

DR. CARTER: Are you?

HOYT: Better?

DR. CARTER: Yes.

HOYT: I – I don't think so.

DR. CARTER: Why not?

HOYT: Why not what? Why don't I think so?

DR. CARTER: Right. Why don't you think you've done at least as well as your dad?

HOYT: Christ, isn't that obvious?

DR. CARTER: Not to me.

(NOTE: Subject sighs heavily at this point and leans forward. He begins to speak as though reciting a well-known list of facts).

HOYT: Let's see… Cal's a mess. I haven't gotten married or had kids. Hell, I can't even seem to have a stable relationship. If I'd stayed some place like Kewaunee, I'd probably be running the town police by now.

DR. CARTER: Would that have made you happy?

HOYT (head snapping up): Who says I'm not happy?

(NOTE: I did not have time to respond to this question as the patient groaned aloud and lowered his head once more).

HOYT: Shit. You know, I was. Happy. Not ecstatic. Life wasn't perfect, not exactly what I had planned, but it was going okay.

DR. CARTER: Until…?

HOYT: Until I got shot! (Subject stands up from the chair and places his hands on my desk. He leans in close to me). Until I got fucking shot. Just like my fucking old man! You know what happened then, Doc? You know what? I had time to _think_. Time to look back and realize what a waste my life had been. Chasing Jordan Cavanaugh. Not taking my career seriously enough. Wasting my time on – on stupid things like old robots. Being – Being too – too damn 'easygoing.'

DR. CARTER: So you changed.

HOYT: So I changed. Got – Got stronger. Didn't let people walk all over me.

DR. CARTER: People? Or Jordan Cavanaugh?

HOYT: _People_, all right. Just people. You know, Doc, just because you say one thing and mean ten other things doesn't mean we're all like that.

DR. CARTER: All right, Woody, fine, you mean people in general.

(NOTE: At this point the subject began to recite the number of cases he'd closed since the shooting, how he had gotten confessions out of suspects who had, in his words, "clammed up." He talked about a little bit about the women he'd been with, stopping suddenly, his mouth closing tightly and his eyes taking on that defiant expression.)

DR. CARTER: What about Dr. Cavanaugh?

HOYT: What about her?

DR. CARTER: I thought you weren't chasing her anymore.

HOYT: I wasn't. I'm not.

DR. CARTER: You're just friends?

HOYT: Yeah. That's it. We'll always be friends.

DR. CARTER: Why is that?

HOYT (angrily): Jesus! I've _told_ you why!

DR. CARTER: You've listed her good qualities for me. What is it about her, Woody?

HOYT: She's – She's… I don't know.

(NOTE: At this point the subject once again went silent. We were nearing the end of our session, so I thought of one final question, looking for the best way to phrase it.)

DR. CARTER: Do you want to save her, Woody?

(NOTE: Subject shifts in chair but does not reply.)

DR. CARTER: Do you want to save her like your father couldn't save your mother?

(NOTE: Subject pushed back his chair roughly, almost knocking it over and strode from my office, slamming the door as he went. I believe the subject will be back as I believe I have gotten him thinking about this matter. He is intelligent enough to want to resolve this. Though our session was definitely rough, I am pleased with the results.)

Signed: J. Carter, Psy.D.


	6. Session 6

SUBJECT: HOYT, WOODROW W.  
MEMO TO FILE  
RE: SESSION: #6

Subject arrives on time for our next session. His appearance is markedly different from our last appointment. He is neatly dressed and well-groomed, although he still seems somewhat haggard, possibly from lack of sleep. He says nothing at first but stands at the threshold of my office like a recalcitrant child being called to the principal's office. Finally, he crosses slowly to my desk and picks up the picture of my children.

HOYT: Good looking kids.

DR. CARTER: They take after their mother, thank goodness.

HOYT: It must be tough.

DR. CARTER: Tough?

HOYT: Your kids. Having a shrink for a parent.

DR. CARTER: Why do you say that?

HOYT: Always having the latest crackpot child-rearing theory tried out on you. Always feeling like you're being analyzed. Judged. You can't get away with anything. You feel like you've got to be the perfect kid.

(NOTE: He is talking about himself, of course. I do not respond. He puts the picture back on my desk and continues to pace around the office.)

HOYT: After the way I left last week, I bet you didn't expect to see me back here.

DR. CARTER: Well, actually I did.

(NOTE: Subject seems surprised and maybe even disappointed by my response.)

HOYT: Oh, yeah? Why's that?

DR. CARTER: Because I think you're ready to talk. I think you're ready to listen.

HOYT: You think you know me, don't you? Hey, I guess that's why they pay you the big bucks.

DR. CARTER: I'm getting paid by the City of Boston, Woody. The bucks aren't so big.

(NOTE: Subject stands looking out the window. After several minutes, there is a subtle movement. His shoulders drop; there is an audible exhalation of breath. I feel that his last defenses have fallen. He crosses to the chair in front of the desk and drops into it with an air of resignation.)

DR. CARTER: Why _did_ you leave last week?

(NOTE: It takes him some time to answer. His voice is small and childlike when he finally answers, and for a moment I see the confused orphaned boy in him.)

HOYT: I don't talk about my mother.

DR. CARTER: Why not?

HOYT: Because…it's just off limits. You're trying to say this is all her fault? I lost my badge because of her?

DR. CARTER: That's not what I'm…

HOYT: She's off limits. Period.

DR. CARTER: All right, we'll talk more about your father, then. Tell me about the day he died.

HOYT: Jesus, you don't know when to quit, do you?

(NOTE: Subject immediately becomes restless in the chair. He cannot keep his hands still. He plays with his tie, runs his fingers repeatedly through his hair. Finally, he rests his elbows on his knees, and his eyes drop to the floor.)

HOYT: It was a Tuesday. Pouring down rain. Funny how you remember little things like that. We knew he wasn't going to make it much longer. There was too much damage. Cal did a Cal. He took off. Went on a bender. I hadn't seen him since Sunday morning when they brought my dad out of surgery. So, it was all up to me. The doctors asked me what I wanted them to do if he coded. Whether they should let my father live or die. I didn't know what to do. I was a kid. So, I said let him go. He had gone into a coma, so I just sat there at his bed. I held his hand. I talked to him. He couldn't hear me. Then, he was gone They came in, turned of the machines. And I knew I'd run out of time. _Shit._

(NOTE: Subject head drops into his hands.)

DR. CARTER: Run out of time for what?

HOYT: Sorry?

DR. CARTER: You said you knew you'd run out of time. Time for what?

HOYT: I don't know.

DR. CARTER: You do know. What had you run out of time for?

HOYT: I said I don't know. Just run out of time. It's a figure of speech.

DR. CARTER: Run out of time for what, Woody?

HOYT: Run out of time to be father and son, all right! Is that what you want me to say? _Shit!_ Run out of time to prove I could be what he wanted me to be. Is that it, doc? Is that what you want to hear? Jesus Christ, I spent my whole fucking life trying to please that son of a bitch. Nothing I ever did was good enough. So, I made up my mind when he died I was going to be better cop, a better _man,_ than he ever was. I wasn't going to make my kids and everyone around me miserable and scared shitless. I wasn't going hide myself in a bottle. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes. So, yeah, maybe I was a little pissed off when I wind up shot in the gut by some punk kid. I still wasn't good enough.

DR. CARTER: And that's why you rejected Dr. Cavanaugh? Because you felt you weren't good enough?

HOYT: No. Yeah. Shit, I don't know. I couldn't let her…

(NOTE: Subject's voice trails off, and he shrugs in exasperation.)

DR. CARTER: Couldn't what? Couldn't let her see you weak? You couldn't let her save you because that's your job?

HOYT: What? No! That's not what I…That's not what it's about with me and Jordan. I don't have to save her.

DR. CARTER: Tell me again when you first found yourself becoming serious about her.

HOYT; When she went to California to track down her mother's killer.

DR. CARTER: And you had to run after her.

HOYT: The guy tried to push her off a building! I had to…

DR. CARTER: You had to save her. Didn't you? You shot the man who was trying to hurt her.

HOYT: I'm a cop! That's what I'm supposed to do!

DR. CARTER: Do cops usually go out of their jurisdiction to chase the bad guy? Do they usually fall in love with every damsel in distress that they rescue? Your first sexual relationship, the schoolteacher, she cried on your shoulder when her marriage failed. Det. Simmons. Dr. McGuire. You entered into relationships with them when they were at their most vulnerable. Do you see a pattern?

HOYT: No, it was real. It seemed real. Christine, Lu, Devan…I thought I had feelings for them.

DR. CARTER: Maybe you did in some way.

HOYT: But Jordan. It's different with us. She's different.

DR. CARTER: Different how?

HOYT: She's just different. Different from the others.

DR. CARTER: I thought it was over between you. I thought you wanted to be "just friends."

HOYT: No! All right? That's not what I want. Okay? I don't want to be "just friends!"

DR. CARTER: Then why did you reject her? After you were shot and after her relationship with the reporter ended?

HOYT: Because I was afraid…

DR. CARTER: Go on.

HOYT: I was afraid I wouldn't live up to her expectations.

DR. CARTER: What do you think she expects you to be?

HOYT: Strong. Brave. Happy. Perfect.

DR. CARTER: From everything you've said about Jordan Cavanaugh, she seems like a remarkable woman. Do you really believe she'd think any less of you if she discovered you weren't actually perfect?

(NOTE: Subject struggles with this for some time.)

HOYT: No.

DR. CARTER: You don't have to be perfect, Woody. You're not your father.

HOYT: You're goddamn right I'm not.

DR. CARTER: Any relationship has to be give and take. You can't be the strong one all the time.

HOYT: I tried…

DR. CARTER: I know you did. But you can't save them all.

(NOTE: There is a lull. He appears to be contemplating what I've said, but he seems at ease. I venture on carefully.)

CARTER: You couldn't save her, Woody.

(NOTE: Subject immediately grows rigid.)

HOYT: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

DR. CARTER: Your mother.

HOYT: No! I said no! I don't talk about her!

DR. CARTER: What are your last memories of her?

HOYT: Don't do this. Please don't make me do this.

DR. CARTER: It wasn't your fault she died, Woody.

(NOTE: Subject rises to his feet.)

HOYT: Fuck you! You don't know anything about it!

DR. CARTER: Then tell me. Do you think it was your father's fault that your mother died?

HOYT: No. Maybe. God, I wonder sometimes if he had just…

DR. CARTER: What, if he had just let her have the abortion? You said you didn't believe in that.

HOYT: I don't! I don't know. She might still be alive.

DR. CARTER: And Cal wouldn't. Do you feel guilty for feeling that way? Do you resent him for being the one that lived?

HOYT: Maybe. Christ, I don't know. That's not all of it. That's not it.

DR. CARTER: What, Woody?

HOYT: Jesus, I was so pissed off.

DR. CARTER: What were you pissed off about?

HOYT: _Her_. I don't really remember her being well. All I knew about her was her being sick. I wanted her to be like other moms and take us to the park and make cookies, but she was always sick. All I remember is her lying on the sofa in her ratty bathrobe staring at her soap operas on TV because she was too weak for anything else. God, I hated her for being sick.

DR. CARTER: You didn't really hate her.

HOYT: Oh, yeah? You know what happened the day she died? She was in the hospital again. I was so angry with her because she was going to miss some stupid play I was in at nursery school. My aunt took me down to the hospital chapel. She was kneeling there with her rosary, and I asked her what she was doing. She told me she was praying to the Virgin Mary to save my mother, and she told me I had to pray, too. So, you know what I did? I put my hands together, and I bowed my head, and I asked the Virgin Mary to take my mother away. I prayed for her to die because I was tired of her being sick. That's what I did. She died that night.

CARTER: It wasn't your fault, Woody. I'm not an overly religious man, but I don't think it works like that.

HOYT: Jesus Christ, she was dying. I can't imagine how much pain she must have been in. How afraid she must have been. Leaving two little kids behind. Christ, I didn't do anything to help her.

CARTER: You were only four years old. What could you have done?

HOYT: What kind of person prays for his mother to die, huh? What kind of person am I? I couldn't even help her. I didn't do anything. Jesus, I couldn't…

CARTER: What, Woody? What couldn't you do?

HOYT: I couldn't save her. I couldn't save her.

(NOTE: Subject collapses back in his chair. His shoulders shake with sobs. I feel I am seeing tears that have been suppressed for almost thirty years.)

HOYT: Jesus, I couldn't save her.

(NOTE: We sit for a long time in silence until his tears subside.)

CARTER: She wasn't yours to save, Woody. None of them are. Maybe sometimes you need to let yourself be saved.

XXXXX

DOCTOR'S NOTE: After the Subject regained his composure, we talked at length about his feelings for his parents and his current relationship with Dr. Cavanaugh. I feel he has an understanding of the destructive patterns that have developed in his life and that he has a strong desire to break them. I will recommend that he be released for full and active duty with the Boston PD with a stipulation that he must seek ongoing counseling with the therapist of his choice. On a professional and personal level, I feel that Det. Hoyt can look forward to a promising future. I wish him the best of luck.


	7. Coda

_That is not the ending._

_For us, it was just the beginning. I think Dr. Carter knew that._

_There is one more item in his file: a newspaper clipping, yellow with age. Can it have been that long ago? The familiar images and the words on the brittle page are still so fresh in my mind:_

_The Boston Globe_

September 22nd, 2008

Section B, Page 1

"DETECTIVE RECEIVES COMMENDATION"

Det. Woody Hoyt, of the Boston Police Department's Homicide Division, has been awarded "Officer of the Year" for 2008. The commendation is awarded each year by the mayor and the chief of police to the member of the Boston police force who best exemplifies qualities of valor, integrity, and service to the community.

"Det. Hoyt was an obvious choice this year," says Mayor Sandra Talbert. "Not only has he been instrumental in solving several high-profile cases over the last year, but he has always done his job with sensitivity and professionalism."

Chief of Police Tom Rooney agrees, stating, "Det. Hoyt has been a real asset to the homicide division and to the community. He's a role model not only to younger detectives but to everyone in homicide. I wish we had more like him"

A seven-year veteran of the force, Hoyt made news in 2005 when he was shot and critically injured during the arrest of convicted "Boston Sniper" Tommy Riggs. Hoyt, pictured above with his wife, Mayor Talbert and Chief Rooney, adds, "It's been a tough couple of years, but I've gotten through it with the help of some great people and the love and support of my wife. I'm a lucky man."

_We were both lucky._

THE END


End file.
